


Is There Somebody Who Can Watch You?

by RoseByAnyOtherName17



Series: The Distance [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blood, Caretaking, Exhaustion, Harpies, M/M, Magic, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 16:44:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8852560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseByAnyOtherName17/pseuds/RoseByAnyOtherName17
Summary: Derek didn't think they were friends anymore, but Stiles still didn't hesitate to pick up the phone when Scott's name flashed across it in the middle of the night.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy :D

There was kind of an unspoken agreement between Stiles and Liam and Malia not to talk about Scott in any context that could be construed as offensive _or_ defensive. Derek was more than okay with this, especially as summer began and Liam and Malia had more free time. But Malia and Liam were still Scott’s pack, and Lydia to a certain degree, and when they had to go meet him or even just hang out, they never lied about where they were going. Liam’s eyes always grew huge with guilt, but Stiles never held it against them, always smiling until the door closed. It was then that his face fell, not because they were ditching him for Scott, but because he missed being part of that group of people.

 

But in the middle of the night when Scott’s name flashed across the screen, Stiles didn’t hesitate to pick up the phone. Derek growled his disapproval into the back of Stiles’ neck, but he could hear Scott on the other end a second later, panicky and all _“We underestimated it, I know Malia told you it wasn’t a big deal but it knocked Liam out cold and Malia went into a full shift and isn’t doing well..”_

“On my way,” Stiles said immediately, already up and out of bed from the first few anxious words. Derek was right behind him, talking with Lydia in a low voice on his own phone and yanking shoes on with one hand. Stiles grabbed a small pouch from a desk drawer and drew a baseball bat from behind the door. At Derek’s raised eyebrow, he explained that he and Deaton infused it with mountain ash and reinforced the inside with steel. Derek could hear the hollowness of it, but it was too small a space for the width of a normal baseball bat. “You’ll see,” Stiles said grimly, and Derek followed him out the door.

 

To Derek’s surprise, they sped toward the middle of town. “Where are we going?”

 

“The old train station,” Stiles said in a rush. “We’ve been keeping an eye on it. Things like to settle there every few months, usually not good.”

 

“Guessing this one isn’t good.”

 

“Bit not good, yeah.”

 

Derek had heard of harpies before, but they’d always been a legend. He said as much out loud when he saw it, and Stiles shrugged. “The nemeton brought a lot of shit here,” was all he said in explanation before leaping forward into the fray and bringing his bat down across its back as it came low to the floor. The shriek was so loud that it hurt and Derek went to his knees, eyes screwed shut, unable to help it. When he forced them open again, he could see that the bat had grown spikes all along its length, spikes that left the harpy smoking wherever it sank in. Feathers were flying and Stiles was winding circles around it, and Derek knew that the best thing for him to do now would be to get Liam out. He got to his feet and stumbled forward, past the ongoing fight, to the beta sprawled out next to the ancient train car. There was blood in his hair from where he’d taken the hit, but there was no wound and Derek picked him up and made to rush him outside.

 

Stiles was backed up to the other wall, chanting in a language that Derek couldn’t identify right then as he tried to wrestle the harpy away from him. He only just noticed then that Scott and Malia were nowhere to be found and Stiles was trying to keep razor-sharp claws away from his face, and that was all it took for Derek to set Liam back on the ground (gently) and charge forward. He ignored the way it burned his hands and picked up the bat, taking as hard a swing as he could at the harpy’s back. It (she? He didn’t know) whirled around in rage to swipe at Derek with lethal talons, and he sprang backwards, distracting it long enough for Stiles to finish the spell. A second later he was knocked back and a hand covered his eyes. “Hold your breath,” Stiles shouted in his ear, so he did.

 

The unearthly sound the harpy made as it exploded made Derek want to scream, but he kept his mouth shut and the air still in his lungs, waiting for Stiles to tell him it was okay to breathe again. Stiles was vibrating so hard that Derek could hear his teeth clacking together where his face was buried in Derek’s neck, but he didn’t move, and it was almost a minute before he lifted his head and let out a ragged, “Okay,” and Derek drew oxygen into his lungs like he was dying.

 

The first thing he registered was Stiles’ face, a long scrape across his cheek and eyes bright with worry. “You okay?” he croaked, wincing at the sound of his own voice. Stiles nodded, and a drop of pale red blood dripped down onto Derek’s cheek. Derek immediately reached up to touch Stiles, wipe it away, but he shook his head and mouthed _the harpy._

 

Then Derek paid attention to his surroundings and…wow, that was a lot of blood and feathers, and it was _sticky._ It was quickly convoluting into a paste on Stiles’ back where he’d thrown himself over Derek to shield his eyes. Stiles still wasn’t getting off of him, so Derek carefully pushed him up and levered him into a sitting position, leaning heavily on his forearms. Derek turned to look at Liam, but he had been out range and was undisturbed.

 

Derek heard Scott outside on unsteady feet, and a lighter pad with a distinct click on concrete that must’ve been Malia. As soon as they entered, Scott rushed forward to Liam, disregarding Stiles but for a quick glance his way. Derek’s blood ran hot and he had to resist slamming Scott against a wall. “Next time,” he said through his teeth, “you don’t go after the pack member that goes rogue. You take care of the one that can’t take care of itself.” Scott stiffened, but didn’t turn.

 

Malia settled herself next to Stiles, head on his shoulder, whining softly. “I’m fine,” Stiles said faintly in a way that had Derek crouching next to him on his other side and reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s…” Stiles drew in a breath, then another, and didn’t talk again.

 

Liam was stirring now, a soft groan leaving his lips. “Is it dead?” he groaned. He opened his eyes and looked around. “Oh, gross.”

 

“I’m taking Stiles home,” Derek said shortly, waiting for Malia to step back before scooping him up into his arms, bloody feathers and all. “Liam? Good?”

 

Liam nodded, heaving himself to sit.

 

Scott opened his mouth to speak, but Derek turned his back and walked out with Stiles. After a second, the clicking sound returned, and Malia trotted out alongside them.

 

**

 

Derek dropped her off at Lydia’s when Malia growled sharply passing her street. Malia went right up to the door and, before she could even lift a paw to scratch it, Lydia opened up. The werecoyote went inside and Derek heard a quiet, “You know where the clothes are.” Lydia came out to the Jeep and waited for Derek to roll the window down. Stiles was slumped against the other door, not unconscious, but not awake either. “Before you ask, he doesn’t need a hospital,” Lydia told him quietly. “He gets like this after using magic. He just needs some sleep and a good meal and definitely some water. Think of it like an adrenalin rush times one hundred.” She shifted her gaze to Derek. “Everything okay?”

 

“Yeah, the harpy’s dead,” he said. “Everyone’s alright.”

 

“You’re mad at Scott,” she observed. When he furrowed his brow, she nodded toward his fingers. His claws were out, just barely pressing into the steering wheel. He retracted them. “What happened?”

 

“He left Liam unconscious with the harpy to go after Malia when she turned,” Derek explained. “Liam could’ve died. He let me and Stiles walk in blind without any sort of warning.”

 

Lydia frowned. “Scott didn’t tell you?”

 

Malia slipped out through the front door in a robe that belonged to Lydia and came over to stand next to the Jeep. “Scott didn’t even tell us until tonight,” she said. “Apparently it’s been here for a couple of days.”

 

“What the hell was he doing, trying to make a peace offering?” Derek demanded.

 

“Yes.”

 

He was caught so off guard that he couldn’t speak.

 

“Get Stiles home,” Lydia said, resting a hand over his despite the claws coming out again. “Let his dad know what happened. I’ll come by tomorrow to check up on you guys, okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” Derek said automatically. 

 

“Don’t bullshit me.” Lydia squeezed his hand. “Get some sleep.”

 

Malia nodded once and the girls slipped back into the house.

 

The sheriff was still at work when they got back, so Derek didn’t hesitate to take Stiles straight up to the bathroom and strip him down to his underwear, throwing the t-shirt and sweats aside, probably to be burned. He shrugged his own clothes off and added them to the pile; they weren’t worth trying to save.

 

Stiles slumped into Derek as he guided them both into the shower, hardly able to support himself, so Derek arranged him so that he was leaning back against Derek’s chest and methodically scrubbed the blood off of his skin, let the water run through Stiles’ hair until it was clear before taking care of himself as best he could while still keeping Stiles up. He toweled them both off and then led Stiles into his bedroom. “I’m going to get you something to eat,” he murmured. “Stay awake for a little bit longer, okay? I’ll be right back.”

 

Stiles mumbled his assent, pressed against the headboard in a way that couldn’t be comfortable. He blinked his eyes open and closed, and finally settled for staring up at the ceiling. Derek left him like that and was making up a sandwich when his phone rang. “Lydia called Parrish and told him what happened,” the sheriff said. “Everyone okay?”

 

“Yeah, we’re good,” Derek assured him. “Stiles is a little out of it, but I’m taking care of him.”

 

There was a sigh. “Thanks, Derek. I always worry about him after magic.”

 

Derek frowned. “How often has this happened?”  


“I think this was the fourth time,” the sheriff replied. “The first time it happened I found him passed out on the kitchen floor. He begged me not to take him to the hospital, so I called Melissa instead. He was in bed for two days. It hasn’t been that bad since, except for Chicago, but it’s never good either.” He paused, then said, “I have to get back to work. I’ll see you both later.”

 

Derek finished the sandwich and got a glass of water before making his way upstairs. “Your dad called,” he said, sitting down at the edge of the bed and making sure Stiles could drink by himself. “He’ll be home in the morning.” Stiles downed half the water in one go and closed his eyes for a moment before reaching out for the sandwich. Derek handed it to him and took the water back. “You should slow down,” he couldn’t help saying when Stiles took a third of the sandwich in one bite.

 

“The quicker I finish this the quicker I sleep,” Stiles mumbled around the food in his mouth. It was disgusting, but Derek smiled all the same and watched him eat, albeit a little slower. He handed Stiles the water back and, when he drained that too, finally allowed himself to relax. Stiles seemed a little stronger, but he still eased himself under the covers and gestured for Derek to join him. Derek remembered the clothes on the bathroom floor, but Stiles’ eyes were slipping shut and his hand was still stretched out, fingers brushing Derek’s arm, and he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but climb over Stiles and settle on his side so he could watch Stiles fall asleep with his fingers wrapped around Derek’s wrist. Derek gazed at him until light started peeking through the window, trying to figure out how the hell he was supposed to tell the sheriff he might be in love with his son.


End file.
